


doubt comes in

by springty



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Hadestown Fusion, Character Death, F/M, Inspired by Hadestown, its a hadestown au folks, so there's gonna be
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-16
Updated: 2020-08-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:53:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25927696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/springty/pseuds/springty
Summary: a land of myth, but not the one you might be thinking of. the king and queen's relationship, and the world, are out of tune. lancelot is a young poet, lancelot is hopeful and naive. guinevere is his muse, but she is more than that; guinevere is a young girl who knows the world.or; a hadestown au.
Relationships: Gwen/Lancelot (Merlin), Ygraine de Bois/Uther Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 3





	doubt comes in

There had been a time when things weren’t like this. There had been a time when Camelot wasn’t the industrial hellscape it was now, a time when the winters melted into spring and the summer lasted as long as it was meant to. A time when mortal life was not made so hard by the conflicts of the gods. But that time was long since gone. Gaius knew it as well as anyone on this road.

Gaius was conductor of the train to Camelot. He saw the state of the world, how humanity had fallen on hard times. Once a year the train would come up from Camelot and bring with it better days; a beautiful lady and with her, summertime. Ygraine. 6 months of the year - or, it was supposed to be 6 - she lived in Camelot; down there she was the queen. To Gaius, she was a friend. To the mortal men and women on the railroad line, she was a bit of hope during hard times.

And what of the king?

  
Uther Pendragon, King of Camelot. He was scarcely seen up top except when he came to bring Ygraine back to Camelot. And he frightened most mortals - understandably.

There was a young man who lived by the railroad line, too. There were plenty of young men, but Gaius found himself particularly fascinated by this young man, as did many others. He played guitar and sang and seemed to have little regard for the harsh colds. When he played, or even when he spoke to you, he could almost make you forget the cruelties of the world, too. His name was Lancelot. His eyes, his voice, and everything about him bubbled with hope, with an optimism Gaius admired and almost envied. But he worried for Lancelot, too. He was all poetic and hopeful words, and Gaius knew he was bound to be let down sometime.

The girl was nothing like Lancelot. Guinevere, her name was, but most people called her Gwen. She had a square head on her shoulders; she had to in order to survive. Especially on her own. She’d lost everything, everyone. Her mother first, when she was young, and eventually her father and brother too. Despite it all she still had a good heart, even if most people never got to see it. Mostly, Gwen was concerned with keeping herself alive.

Of course Lancelot fell for her.

He often found himself staring after her. Gwen pretended not to notice, but she certainly did. She pretended not to care, but found herself blushing when she caught his gaze. And his eyes, damn him, were beautiful. It went on like this for some time before he approached her.

Gwen was seated, her coat pulled tightly around herself. It was frigid. She could scarcely remember a time when the winters weren’t so harsh. It had been before her father passed, at least. Lancelot walked up to her, guitar on his back, and trying to project a confidence that he secretly did not have. He held in his hand a flower folded out of a napkin, and he presented it to her.

  
“For you, my lady,” he said, and Gwen rolled her eyes. Lancelot searched his mind for something else to say, arm outstretched with his napkin-flower still in hand. “Come home with me,” he blurted.

  
She stared at him. “Who are you?” Of course they’d shared glances before, and perhaps she knew vaguely of him, but she still thought it was well within her rights to ask. He was rather strange. The stranger thing was she wasn’t sure if she minded.

  
“I’m Lancelot.”


End file.
